When the kids learn that he works the next weekend, their faces drop, but he tells them they have to come anyway so he can have dinner with them. When the weekend comes to an end, we again make our way home, but this time, it’s Lizzie who starts the talk. “If we move to Blake’s house, can I bring my bed and desk?”
“Um,” I say, looking in the rearview mirror while Daisy tells us that she doesn’t want her small bed, she wants Blake’s big one. We continue the back and forth for over a month, and each time, the girls bring more and more of their stuff. I don’t bring up moving in with Blake until one night he plays hardball.
“Move in with me,” he says as he enters me in one thrust, a moan coming out of us. The kids are staying at his parents’ house, so we can make as much noise as we want. I raise my hips when he thrusts in again and again. He pushes back on his knees, putting one of my legs on his shoulder and going so deep my eyes roll in the back of my head. “Move in with me,” he says, slamming into me harder and harder.
“Please,” I beg him. I’m about to come when he pulls out of me, and I groan in frustration.
“Move in with me,” he says and bangs into me. He brings me to the edge again only to stop right before I come.
“Blake,” I say, grabbing his ass and trying to push him back inside me.
“Move in with me,” he says, entering me again. “Wake up with me.” He presses in again, lifting my hips to get him into me. “Cook with me.” His cock rubs against my G-spot. “Please.”
“Okay,” I say, looking at him, in his eyes, and he smiles and finally lets me come as he follows me right off that cliff.
The next morning when we pick up the kids, we ask them to sit down at the table. I have no idea how I’m going to start this conversation, and I don’t have to because Blake takes the lead. “Girls, how would you like to live here,” he asks them, “like all the time?”
He looks at Lizzie and then at Daisy, who claps her hands together with glee. Lizzie just smiles at him as she nods.
We ride back home this time, knowing we’ll soon be moving. I call Elliot over the next day.
“Hey,” I say when I open the door. “Come in.”
“Hey, are the girls here?” he asks, and I call them down. Daisy is excited to see him; Lizzie is standoffish and takes Daisy upstairs after a while. “They look good,” he says, sitting on the couch.
“They really are good,” I tell him as I sit down on the couch, facing him. “I called you over to let you know that we’re moving.”
“What?” he says in shock, looking at me.
“This isn’t our home anymore,” I tell him.
“Is this about Blake?” he asks.
“No”—I shake my head—“this is about us not being comfortable here. Us not being happy here.”
“Do you really love him?” He leans forward, putting his arms on his knees.
“With everything that I am.” I don’t even try to lie.
“Eric knew,” he says softly as I look at him. “He knew my father had a double life.”
“What?” I ask. “How do you know?”
“Well, after we left court, my father came clean. Lucille was his high school sweetheart. They drifted apart and bumped into each other again by chance. Ethan was just born, and well, he felt like my mother put him on the back burner, so he got his attention somewhere else.”
“I can’t even,” I tell him.
“Well, one day Eric found a picture of him with his other two kids, and he knew they were his because the resemblance couldn’t be denied. So the next time he went out of town, he followed him, and that’s when he ran into Hailey, and well, you know the rest.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” I tell him. “It’s time for us to all move on. Your parents own this house, according to the papers my lawyer has, so you can inform them that I’ll be moving out in the next two weeks.”
“What about the kids? Will you stop us from seeing them?”
“Never,” I answer him, “but it is their decision if they want to see you or not. You hurt them. Daisy not so much, but Lizzie …” I shake my head. “You were her uncle, and she thought you were on her side, no matter what.”
“I am,” he says.
“No”—I put my lips together—“you weren’t. When she needed someone to stick up for her, you didn’t. Instead of fighting to keep her with me, you didn’t even try to stop the shit that was happening,”
“They’re my parents,” he tells me.
“She is your niece, and you just disappeared. You stopped coming, you stopped calling, it just fucking stopped. She lost her father and you.”
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”
“I forgive you, but the damage is done.” I get up. “I won’t stop you from seeing her or calling, but I will not force her to do anything she doesn’t want to do.”
He gets up and nods. “I’ll make an effort,” he promises, and I just nod and then go up and start packing my boxes.
Epilogue One
Samantha
One Month Later
“Let’s go, girls,” Blake says, walking out of our bedroom down the hallway while putting on his shirt. I stand in the kitchen with my hip against the counter, watching him. “Morning.” He comes to me, kissing my lips. “Stop looking at me like that,” he whispers into my ear and kisses my neck.
“Like what?” I ask him, hiding my smile.
“Like you’re Sylvester the cat, and I’m the bird.” He smiles, turning when he hears the girls coming into the room. “You guys have your lunch boxes?” He grabs his keys. “Lizzie, you have your assignment?”
“Yup,” she says, coming to me and giving me a kiss. “You think I can go to Kiera’s house after school for a sleepover?”
We’ve been here for two weeks, and it feels like we’ve been here forever. Our stuff is mixed with his, so it’s our home. The girls made their rooms theirs, with little knickknacks, and of course, Nanny took them to Target where they went overboard. I smile because everyone around them showers my kids with unconditional love. They aren’t used as pawns on a chess board; they are just loved for them.
And Blake, to say he is over the moon excited is an understatement. He drives the kids to school every morning when he is home even though they have buses. “It’s our time,” he says, and the girls love it. I walk to the front door to wave my hand at them as the car pulls out of the driveway, then go back inside to clean up from our breakfast. I look in the living room, the picture of Frankie and Blake sits next to the picture of Eric, me, and the kids. Both of them sitting next to a picture that Nanny took when we moved in. Blake has his arm around my shoulder while he holds Daisy in his arms, and Lizzie stands in the middle of us. The smile on everyone’s face making our eyes crinkle.
I turn the music on while I walk to the table, picking up the plates; another thing when Blake is home—breakfast is a free-for-all. He would make the kids homemade waffles if they wanted, and he does it with a smile. When he works, the girls and I go by the station and have dinner with him every single night unless he’s on a call.
I mean, it’s not all smooth sailing. We fight now or, better yet, we argue. One of the arguments is me paying rent or paying for groceries. Well, that was a big one, ending with me slamming his bedroom door. It also was right before he came into the room and made love to me, telling me how he wanted to take care of me.
So I did what any independent woman did, I gave him the idea that I would let him take care of me, without letting him know it wasn’t going to be like that. I think he notices when I buy something for the house, or when he comes back from work and the refrigerator is stocked. He looks over at me but never says anything.
We also do things as a family, mostly after dinner—we take walks to the park or just around the neighborhood. His hand in mine as my girls walk in front of us. With no weight on my shoulders, I couldn’t ask for anything else in the world.
I’m so lost in my train of thought I don’t hear
the phone ringing. I pick it up, not recognizing the number. “Is this Samantha?” the woman asks on the other line.
“Yes, this is she.” I walk to the radio, turning it off so I can hear her.
“My name is Elaine Locke, and I’m calling from Child Protection Services.” My heart stops, and my neck gets hot. I hold the counter because I’m sure my knees will give out. “I got your name last week from a Mr. Blake Williams when we were called out for a fire at one of our foster homes.” Relief lifts off my shoulders. “He mentioned that you just moved into town and had a background in social work.”
I don’t know what to say. I’m shocked. “Um, yes, that’s right.”
“Well, we are always understaffed, and we are looking for a part-time social worker. The hours are very flexible, the pay”—she stops talking and then starts again—“it isn’t much.”
“I …” I don’t know what to say.
“Listen, I would love for you to come in, and we can maybe sit down and talk.”
“That would be wonderful,” I tell her as I wipe tears from the corner of my eyes. “When would you like to meet?”
“How is next Monday at nine a.m.?” she asks, and I take her address right away. We disconnect as soon as Blake walks into the house.
“What’s wrong?” he asks me, stopping in his tracks. His back straightens on alert when he sees that my nose is red, and I have tears in my eyes.
“I just got off the phone with Elaine,” I tell him, and he walks to the kitchen.
“Oh, yeah,” he says, grabbing a coffee cup and pouring the last of the coffee. “I met her last week and gave her your phone number.”
“Well, I have a meeting with her on Monday. For a part-time position.”
He leans back on the counter, crossing his feet at his ankles while he looks at me. “Isn’t that what you want?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think I would be able to find it,” I tell him quietly. “You”—I shake my head—“you give me everything.”
“I just gave her your name. You have to do the interview,” he tells me, putting his cup down. “You’re doing it again.”
“What?” I smile and shrug my shoulders.
“You’re giving me that look again,” he says, coming to me.
“I like it,” he says to me. “I’ll like it even more when my cock is inside you.” He grabs me around the waist and carries me to our room, where he fucks me the whole time.
Four days later, I walk out of Elaine’s office with a smile I can’t wipe off my face. I walk to the car, and after getting in, I finally shout with glee. I call Blake right away. “Hey,” I say before he can say anything. “I got the job,” I tell him, bouncing in the driver’s seat. “I start next Monday.”
“They are lucky to have you,” he finally says softly. “How about we go down to the beach this weekend to celebrate?”
Hailey and Jensen came down last weekend to introduce Mila to her parents. It started a little awkward, but once we got over that hump, it was a great weekend.
Mila and Daisy were like two peas in a pod, with Lizzie making sure they didn’t get in trouble, which was quite often. It didn’t help that Henry gave them whatever they wanted.
“Do you think it would be okay?” I ask him.
“I do,” he says. “Let me call Hailey and I’ll call you back.”
Well, to say it was more than okay was an understatement. We ended up leaving Thursday instead of Friday so the girls would have an extra beach day. The ride was longer than I thought, and if I heard one more, “Are we there yet?” I thought I would poke my eyeballs out.
Pulling up to the house, I stare out wide-eyed. This is a perfect getaway. Hailey and Jensen walk out of the house when they see our car, then Jensen turns back and yells for Mila, who comes running out to meet us.
“So glad you guys finally got here. I swear if I heard Mila ask are they here yet one more time,” Jensen says.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Hailey says, coming down and hugging her brother first and then me. “Let me show you around.”
She takes us inside, showing us her beautiful house. The master bedroom faces the water. I watch the waves crash onto the shore, and it’s almost as if I was here before. She takes us outside. The girls run ahead of us with Mila as their own personal tour guide. “It’s beautiful at night,” she says, walking down the stairs that lead to the beach. The girls run to the water, squealing when the wave crashes and almost wets them.
My girls look back and wave at us, and I’m so happy I think I’m going to burst. My hands go around Blake’s waist as he looks down at me, kissing me. “Love you,” he says, and I just nod.
We have dinner at Jensen’s house, which is like a private oasis. I swear the girls run straight outside to Mila’s new playhouse that Jensen built her. “I don’t think we are going to get the kids to leave here,” I lean into Blake and tell him as we sit in the outdoor porch area.
“Yeah,” Hailey says, coming to sit on the couch next to Jensen, her feet under her, “I’m not supposed to say anything, but the girls already brought their clothes for a sleepover.”
“What?” I ask, looking at Blake. “You did this?”
He puts up his hands. “I did not.” He tries to hide his smile. “Daisy asked me, and she used the pout.” He tries to plead his case. “And then she said she’s never had a sleepover at a friend’s house.”
I shake my head and roll my eyes. “She has you wrapped around her finger, and she plays you just like a fiddle each time she wants something.”
Now, he rolls his eyes. “She does not.” He turns to his sister. “She doesn’t.”
Jensen throws his head back, “When Mila was at Henry’s, she convinced him to try green nail polish. You Williams men have a soft spot.”
Hailey clears her throat. “Are your toes still painted?” She laughs as he turns to glare at her.
“I was napping.” And we all laugh.
The girls end up sleeping over at Jensen’s with Hailey, who is giving us her house. Crystal is away for the weekend with Gabe, so it’s just the two of us. We walk on the beach back toward Hailey’s house, the full moon shining bright. My hand in his as I listen to the waves crash into the shore. “I don’t know what it is,” I start to tell him. “But it’s almost therapeutic listening to the ocean waves.”
“I guess that is why Hailey loves it so much,” he says quietly.
“I dreamed of this beach,” I tell him, looking down. “Before we even got here, before we even started being what we are.”
“Did you?” he asks as we arrive at the house, and he turns to walk to it.
“I want to sit on the beach,” I tell him, and he sits right down, opening his legs so I can sit in the middle. With my back to him and his legs on the outside of mine, we watch the waves crashing. “I was here, with you,” I slowly tell him as his arm hugs me from the back. “And I think Frankie was here also. Almost like she was pushing me to you.”
“That would probably be her,” he says, kissing the side of my head.
“I love you,” I tell him, turning my head to the side to look at him, my hand reaching up to hold his face.
“Do you really?” He looks at me with his green eyes, almost an emerald green in the moonlight. “Do you love me enough to spend the rest of your life with me?” he asks as my eyes go big. “Do you love me enough to grow old with me?” My heart speeds up.
“Blake,” I whisper as I watch him get to his feet and take something out of his pocket. He gets on one knee in front of me.
“I never thought this moment would come. After Frankie, I just …” he drifts off. “I just never imagined loving anyone the way I loved her.” The tears I try to keep at bay escape. “I was wrong. I was so wrong because not only do I love you with every beat of my heart, but I also know that without you, I wouldn’t be able to survive. I watch you when you sleep, I listen to you breathe, my hand on your heart as it beats, and my body sits at ease,” he says, smiling at me as
my lower lip trembles. “I want to help you with the kids; I want to be your shoulder to cry on. I want to celebrate all the milestones that are to come, and I want it to be with you as my wife.”
“Blake.” My hands cup his face, and I lean in to kiss him, not caring that I didn’t answer him. “I can’t believe I was lucky enough to find you, or that I’m lucky enough to have your love. To know that you’re my best friend and my lover. I want to wake up to you and go to bed with you. I want to come home from work to you; I want to sit on the porch and hold your hand as we wait for the girls to come home. I want to have your babies, so we can have a piece of each of our love live forever.” I kiss his lips. “So yes, I’ll marry you. Anytime, any place.”
“Fuck, I’m so happy you said that ’cause I would hate to have to drag you to that wedding,” he says and I laugh while I kiss him out on that beach where I first dreamed of him. A star twinkles in the sky, celebrating with us.
Epilogue Two
Blake
Three years later
“Shh,” I say while I rock my son, Carter, to sleep. He just turned eighteen months, and his teeth are coming in. “Don’t wake Mommy,” I tell him as he looks up at me with my green eyes.
“She isn’t feeling well,” I tell him. She has been nauseated for the past couple of weeks, and I immediately thought she was pregnant. It seems that I was right. We found out three days ago we are expecting another baby. I smile as I think about her eyes when the plus sign showed up on the test. “I’m giving you another brother or sister,” I tell him.
He loves his mom and dad, more mom than dad, but the love he has for his sisters is something so fierce. No matter where they are, he wants to be there. Lizzie is more understanding than Daisy, who still doesn’t understand why he just can’t poop in the potty. Or why he goes in her room and touches her things. She asked for a lock for her eighth birthday. I shake my head. “What do you want?” I ask him. “Do you want a brother to even things out or would you like another sister?” I ask him, and he looks at the door, expecting them to be there.
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